


Ugly Sweaters

by bjrit92



Series: Twelve Days of Drabbles [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:37:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjrit92/pseuds/bjrit92
Summary: On the fourth day of ficmas, yours truly gave to thee...ugly Christmas sweaters, undercover prep work, mistletoe kisses, and snowballs and fun by a tree!





	Ugly Sweaters

You thumped your shopping bags onto the kitchen table in your small apartment, much to the bemusement of the angel sitting in the chair drinking coffee.

“You’ve been busy this morning,” he remarked. You grinned began dumping the contents onto the table, revealing an eclectic hodgepodge of crafting supplies. Gabriel picked up a glue gun curiously. “What on earth are you up to?”

“Well,” You began, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “you know how I convinced the boys to actually celebrate Christmas this year in the bunker?” Gabriel nodded his assent and you continued, “I may have expressed my enthusiasm for ugly Christmas sweaters and exaggerated the joy of making one in front of Jack.”

Gabriel cocked a grin, “You sneaky little devil. So let me guess, the hardy boys are now saddled with helping my nephew make a sweater?”

“Yes, and Cas as well. He was intrigued by the odd human tradition and wanted to join in. Now we’re all wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas! Yes, you too!” You cut him off as he opened his mouth to ask the question. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. As he took another sip of coffee, his T-shirt changed into a sweater covered in frills, bows, pom poms, and Christmas lights.

You swatted his arm and shoved a glue gun into his fist. “That doesn’t count! You have to make it. From scratch!” You could see the protest building in his face and you batted your eyelashes, doing your best impression of Sam’s infamous puppy eyes. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, the angel gave in and took the glue gun and plain green sweater you were offering him. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

“The things I put myself through for you, woman,” he mumbled.

“Do a good job and we’ll see just how ugly your sweater looks on the floor tomorrow night,” you teased. His eyebrow quirked at your flirtatious taunt and he tried to pull you onto his lap in response. You untangled yourself from his grasp and gathered your arms full of art supplies instead, earning yourself a smack on your backside as you ran past him into the bedroom.

“And no peeking!” You called as you shut the door behind you. It was time to get to work.

***

Thirty-Six hours later, Gabriel wrapped his arm around your waist and snapped you both to the bunker. Knocking on the door, you adjusted your jacket. You wanted your sweater to be a surprise, so you’d made sure you were completely covered before leaving your bedroom this evening. Gabriel had put his sweater on and shown you almost shyly. He’d taken the task more seriously than you’d expected. His inexperience with making something versus conjuring it was obvious through hot glue strings and small mistakes here and there, but his sweater was genuine and endearing. There were Christmas-colored pompoms dotted here and there down his arms and he’d taken felt and tinsel to try and create a Christmas tree scene on the front. He’d even made small square-shaped Christmas presents out of cardboard and wrapping paper to place under the Christmas tree. You’d kissed his insecurities about his artistic skills away, and he was more excited now to see how the rest of the group fared.

Sam opened the door to the bunker and you took in his sweater appreciatively. He was craftier than he let on, apparently, or he simply had some natural skills. His deep burgundy sweater had ‘Merry Christmas’ written in fabric paint script across the chest and a scene constructed below it with a fireplace and felt stockings. His arms were wrapped in tinsel and Christmas lights. You nodded at him, impressed.

“Look at you, Samsquatch! Nice sweater!” Sam ducked his head in pleased embarrassment. You and Gabe slid past him through the door to see a heartfelt effort in Christmas decór. There were lights decorating every wall, stockings for each of you tacked against one wall, and even a Christmas tree in the corner with popcorn strings and candy canes. A small pile of presents sat under it—Gabriel had snapped your presents to the boys there earlier in the day. You heard a flutter of wings and Jack appeared in front of you as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/N! Look at my sweater!!” He exclaimed, clearly proud of himself. You looked him over and laughed, his sweater looked as though a child had made it, and he had certainly enjoyed himself while making it. There were dried glue stains here and there and haphazard amounts of glitter, string, ribbons, pompoms, and various other crafting supplies covering his entire front. He did a spin, allowing you to see the back, and you saw the attempt at writing “Merry Christmas” with fabric paint. He’d tried to alternate red and green letters, and the green letters were slightly larger than the red ones. A few of the letters were smudged, but overall the effect was charming. You hugged him and praised his first Christmas sweater, making him beam with pride.

You released Jack as Dean walked into the room, Castiel close behind. Castiel’s sweater was simple but creative. He’d glued fairy lights and Christmas ornaments in the shape of a star on his front. You smiled appreciatively at him before giving Dean a disappointed frown.

“Dean, you’re supposed to be creative with your sweater!”

“What are you talking about?” Dean glanced down at the lone stocking glued to the front of his otherwise empty sweater. Reaching his hand inside the stocking, he pulled out a bottle of beer as he claimed, “my sweater is perfect!” He popped the cap off and took a swig as you laughed.

“What about yours, y/n?” Sam asked as he joined the small group. Gabriel crossed his arms in front of him and stepped away from you.

“Yeah, even I haven’t seen this masterpiece yet,” he said.

The men stared at you, awaiting your grand reveal. Grinning, you unzipped your jacket and threw it off to the side. Groans and laughter rang through the room as the mix of men and angels in front of you took in the stuffed 3D Christmas angel on your front, the—“is that supposed to be ME?”—Horn of Gabriel in its hand, and from the bell of the horn emerged the words “Merry Christmas Bitches!” down your sleeve.

“Wait, it gets better!” You proclaimed triumphantly. Twisting around, you threw your hands in the air above your head and showed your back to the boys, letting them take in the Christmas tree shape your arms made with the green ruching, ornaments, and glitter, complete with a star at the top of the sleeves. You turned back around to a thoroughly amused Dean, Sam, and Jack, a bemused and slightly confused Castiel, and an exasperated Gabriel. You smiled sweetly at the latter and he rolled his eyes at you before pulling you to him and kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Bitches,” he stated. “Now, where can a Christmas Angel get one of those beers, Dean-o?”


End file.
